


You Don't Pay Me at All

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Complicated Relationships, F/F, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Platonic Relationships, Polyamory, blink and youll miss it, brief mention of smut, like very brief though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9955529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: John is gay. Martha's a lesbian. They're both doing their best to get their traditionally valued homophobic fathers to leave them alone. The Mulligans love each other and the two of them very much.





	

**Author's Note:**

> lmao im gay

Martha sighed, rolling onto her back and raising her hand up to get a better look at her engagement ring in the morning light. The couch was lumpy and uncomfortable, both her and her supposed husband-to-be not caring enough to buy a new one even when it left her with an ache in her neck when she woke. It served its purpose well enough, though, doing just fine to hold the two restless women the night prior. They didn't go any further than kissing and some light petting, but nonetheless Elizabeth was still unwilling to hold still, tossing and turning and rolling either of them around in giggly fits of juvenile passion as they shared smooches and innocent touches.

Her darling Elizabeth, with woody brown eyes and flawless alabaster skin. Always such a beautiful contrast to her own tawny flesh whenever their fingers interlock. Elizabeth with her cloud of bouncy copper curls, always shaking with the bright melody of her laughter. The scent of lavender practically radiating around her, and a clean, floral feeling always present when she's here. Martha could drift off to it, let her eyes fall shut and breath in the angelic scent until her body caught up with her heart and their lips met again tenderly.

A soft mumbling from a saccharine voice, and the body under her shifts. A sweet hum against her neck paired with a airy breath and Elizabeth's hand was reaching up to take her own ringed one into her hold delicately, pulling it down to hold against her heart as her lips brush the shell of the smaller girl's ear.

"What worries you, my love?" she asks, her voice a wisp that raises goosebumps on Martha's skin.

"I'm getting married in a week," she responds. "I'm getting married in a week and it's to a _man._ "

Martha shuffles over her, twisting her body so they're facing each other, chest to chest. She feels her brow knit together with frustration even as Elizabeth brushes their noses together and coos daintily.

"You're getting married to John Laurens," she starts again. "One of the better men I've met if you ask me, and you know he just adores you," one of her elegant fingers curls around a lock of Martha's unruly black hair, pushing it back into her mop of thick strands as her cheeks raise with warmth. "Even if either of your feelings run strictly platonic, at least you have that? I'd much rather marry a good friend than some random pig your abysmal father would find."

"I suppose so," Martha sighs again, burrowing her head down into her lovers collarbone, "but they'll be expecting children, and the two of us could _never-_ "

"Then don't, my darling," her voice is much sharper now, easily chasing away the dreadful uncertainty in Martha's stomach, "and don't you ever feel like you have to. If your parents ever demand an excuse then claim infertility, see a doctor and have it done in a lab if you do want babies but please..."

She takes another breath, sounding strained and it makes Martha's heart twist in her chest when their eyes catch each other again. Dark olive meeting rich brown with tired expressions before their lids fall shut again and they kiss. Soft, silky lips on her own full, chapped ones. The touch beautiful and heated and teeming with longing for one other. Slender limbs tangle up around her short, chubby frame as her hands come down to cup the girls rosy cheeks, gasping when lips part and tongues meet sensually.

"Hey, that's my fiancé you're feeling up!"

They pull apart, Martha's lips turning up in an exasperated grin even as her face heats. John Laurens, for what it was worth, was an exceptionally good as far as men went.

"Well excuse me if I feel the need to indulge myself whenever my husband is away," Elizabeth snickers, half lidding her eyes in a mock show of seduction as her hands smooth down the girls waist, "and where might he be, dear?"

"Making breakfast, he told me to wake y'all but clearly that ain't necessary, " John huffs out a laugh, motioning towards the two of them.

Martha smiles up at him endearingly, moving to stand from the woman beneath her and stepping forward to wrap her arms around the mans waist, leaning her head on his chest with an airy smile. His response is immediate. Full, muscled arms lock around her securely as his head rests on top of hers, one hand stroking down her back as the other cards through her hair.

"You alright?" he asks softly.

Martha takes a moment to respond, breathing in his scent as her mind wraps around everything. He smells of pine and mulch, with a soothing hint of something mineral like remaining from his night with Hercules. His chest is firm and sturdy, and his bones aren't as sharp where they jut out from his skin. He's a full head taller than her, and his hips are narrow where they lead down to his unshaved legs. Everything about him is terribly masculine in comparison to any women she's ever been with, and while her heart doesn't hiccup the way it does when in Elizabeth's embrace, it still warms with a more chaste type of love.

"I'm fine," she giggles, tilting her head up to look directly at him, unable to keep her eyes from following the harsher span of his jawline, "as good as I can be marrying a punk like you!"

He snorts, tousling her hair before slinging an arm around her shoulder and dragging her towards the kitchen weightlessly, Elizabeth following with that same saccharine smile as a similar one spreads over Johns lips.

Hercules, bless his soul, tried his best to make a feasible breakfast. Without a cookbook (John an Martha ate in or ordered out, neither too skilled at making anything beyond frozen foods) or any sense of familiarity in what he was making, the soft man got by on good intent and half an idea on how any of them liked their eggs.

"Sorry if they're a little bland, I think I might've used too much milk...?" he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, setting plates down in front of them at the small dining table with a hazy smile, leaning down to give Elizabeth a peck on the cheek before taking his seat between her and John, right across from Martha.

"They're perfect darling, absolutely flawless," Elizabeth chirps, beaming with pride as she scoops a good half of her portion of eggs onto a piece of toast, digging into it without restraint. John snorts again, rolling his eyes over to Martha whose grin matched his just the same as she salts the scrambled mess on her plate, idly plunging a fork into her mouth.

"You're what's perfect, honestly, who gave you the right?" Herc throws back affectionately, nudging her with his elbow, forcing her into a spew of giggles that devolved into a close mouthed coughing fit.

" _Please_ don't kill my girlfriend, Hercules," Martha pleads, patting the girl on the back delicately.

"Oh hush Martha, if anything Herc has first right to kill Ellie! They are married after all, your opinion holds little merit in their relationship," John pokes her in the side as the girl is coaxes the other back from breathlessness.

"Well I guess that means I have first right to kill you then, huh John?" she retorts, smiling sinisterly as her hand closes around his wrist in a vice grip.

"Oh don't be foolish, love! At the very least wait until after the wedding, just think of all of Laurens' inheritence you could cash in on. Not to mention life insurance reimbursement..." Elizabeth purrs, leaning her head forward into one of her hands as her smile grows, Hercules barking out a laugh next to her when Martha catches John in a headlock.

-

The wedding was, well, rather hetero. The venue was gorgeous, the decorations tasteful and quaint and the beach setting was playful enough to suit either John and Martha's "quirky" personalities, as their families so often put it. God bless Dolley Madison. Martha makes a mental note to thank her afterwards when Adrienne does her makeup. Modest earthy colors, and hair done in waving ringlets that cascade down her shoulders. Dress form fitting and impressively flattering on her stout frame.

It was nice in theory, she guessed, but nerves made the fabric of her dress constricting and the weight of the veil like concrete against her scalp.

She forces herself to release the tension in her muscles when her father walks her down the aisle, her steps fumbling in the uncomfortable wedges as she strides awkwardly towards her fiancé.

 _Her husband,_ she thinks once their lips have finally met, the kiss short and stiff but still enough to get whoops and applause from the sea of republican relatives and close friends they'd tentatively invited.

She almost misses it, though, once the painful boringness of the reception sets in at least. She's content with sitting back and getting tipsy on overly fruity drinks, nibbling at surprisingly well cooked salmon as her cousins and siblings come to congratulate them. Toasts and speeches pass in a blur, and they're lucky to get away from the cake cutting without being forced into any overly cheesy cake-face-shoving.

John taps her on the shoulder hesitantly to let her know it's time for their dance.

She takes a deep breath, composes herself, and downs the rest of her drink before letting him lead them to the floor.

His hands shake against her, and she's a little ashamed to admit knowing he's even more nervous than her helps.

The step and sway to the bland music as convincingly as they can, having to force themselves not to shy away with each brush of their bodies. The pitying, knowing looks of their friends around them don't help much, but they manage. 

-

 _Leaving_ is undoubtedly their favorite of the whole thing. The two of them are lucky enough to be blessed with freedom while everyone else is still busy packing up, but noone comments when they slip into the limousine fifteen minutes ahead of schedule.

The first thing Martha does is take off the heinous wedges, her earrings and mussed veil following immediately after as her husband (it still sounds strange in her head) practically rips the suffocating tie from around his throat.

"Are you alright?" he asks, rubbing his neck with a vexed espression as he slouches back in his seat, kicking his own shoes off tiredly.

"I'll live," she responds, shifting to lean her head on his shoulder weakly, "at least it's over, y'know?"

-

The hotel is grand and lavish, and both of them feel uncomfortably out of their element as they make their way up to their room, feigning flirtacious excitement when they pass the front desk before falling back into sullen silence in the elevator. John takes his time with the keycard, sharing a sympathetic gaze with his wife (just as strange!) before entering.

Elizabeth greets either of them with a glass of champagne, Hercules shouts a welcome at them over his shoulder loudly as he unboxes a small bin of strawberries.

"Hey, darlings! I hope you don't mind me and Herc helping ourselves before you got here, but loverboy over there suggested we surprise you and honestly, how could I refuse?"

Martha's barely able to force the glass into John's hand before she's pulling the other woman down into a kiss.

 

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me about gay stuff in the comments or on my tumblr @velveteendeath


End file.
